


Cuddle Cure

by WindWisp



Series: OmixAzu Trash [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sex (ch4 only), fluff?, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindWisp/pseuds/WindWisp
Summary: It's midnight, and Azuma can't sleep. Luckily, he finds some company in the kitchen.Or: Omi just wanted to bake some muffins. How exactly did he end up in Azuma's bed?
Relationships: Fushimi Omi/Yukishiro Azuma
Series: OmixAzu Trash [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743820
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Azuma couldn't sleep. He'd been ready and in bed at 10 pm since he has to wake up early tomorrow for rehearsal, but the dreams just wouldn't come. A TV show he'd been watching with the kids that afternoon had reminded him of his family, and the thoughts just wouldn't leave his head. Guy was out for the evening, as well, and the loneliness was pressing in again.

And so, after two hours of tossing and turning, Azuma found himself selecting one of his less expensive bottles of daiginjo-shu and sneaking out to the kitchen in search of a glass. Perhaps a drink would settle his brain.

The dorm was quiet at this time of night, but much to Azuma's surprise, the kitchen was already occupied.

"Someone's up late," Azuma said, placing the sake down on the table and turning to the man with a smile.

"I could say the same about you," was Omi's reply. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not a wink. I thought perhaps a nice glass of sake would help. Care to join me?" Azuma asked as he maneuvered around Omi to open the glasses cupboard.

"Sure, why not? I could use something to take my mind off of things. Just let me get these muffins in the oven first."

"Muffins?" asked Azuma, peeking over Omi's shoulder to see that there was indeed a muffin pan filled with batter sitting on the stove next to a bowl half-full of what looked to be fresh blueberry muffins. "Hm, someone's been busy."

"I couldn't sleep, either," Omi admitted. "Watch out," he added, looking back to Azuma and pausing with his hand on the oven door handle.

Azuma quickly stepped out of the way, two sake cups in hand, watching as Omi switched a tray of steaming, golden muffins with the tray of batter. He stood off to the side as the baked muffins were upended into the bowl and a timer was set for 25 minutes.

"How about those drinks, then?" Omi asked, dusting his hands off on his apron before pulling the thing over his head and laying it on the counter.

Azuma smiled again before leading Omi to the table. He felt a little bad as he poured the cloudy liquid into the cups, Omi's first. If he'd known he was going to have company, he would have brought one of the better bottles in his collection. Still, he didn't let the smile falter as they clinked their glasses together and took the first sip. Dry, crisp, with a fruity aroma and just a hint of ginger. Not the worst choice he could have made, admittedly.

Small talk flowed, and they were onto their third glass of the evening before Azuma deemed Omi relaxed enough to start prying.

"So," Azuma began, "What is it that has you so rattled that you're up baking muffins at midnight?"

Omi chuckled, looked a bit sheepish. "It's nothing much, just the usual post-graduation stuff. Figuring out jobs and things like that."

"Come now, if it's keeping you from sleep, it's hardly nothing much. I can't say I specialize in job counseling, but I can at least lend an ear."

"Oh, no, I don't want to trouble you." Omi looked uncomfortable, but if Azuma was good at anything, it was soothing people's nerves.

"It's no trouble at all," he assured. "It's my profession to help people sleep, and it's the least I can do for all the wonderful meals you make us."

"Oh. Right." Was it Azuma's imagination, or did Omi look a little put out? Had he miscalculated? Usually assuring people he was a professional put them at ease, and flattery never hurt, either. Maybe a different tack, then.

"Not that I wish to help you out of any obligation. As a friend, I admit I'm concerned. I couldn't bear it if someone I cared about was suffereing when I knew I could help them out."

Omi seemed to pause at this. He looked down at the table, eyebrows scrunched, before cracking a little smile.

"Well I can't exactly say no now, can I?" he said with a chuckle. "I'm just a little...lost, I guess. There are so many choices to make, and I feel like college didn't prepare me for any of this. I mean, sure, we had seminars and I interviewed at a bunch of places, but a desk job never felt...right."

Azuma chuckled fondly. "They aren't for everyone. Can you imagine me sitting at a desk for nine hours a day doing paperwork?"

He'd meant it as a joke, but Omi seemed to think it over.

"Actually, I can," he said. "You couldn't be low on the food chain, though. You'd be at least a department head, and all the women in the company would try to transfer to your department. No one would get any work done when you were in the office, because every time you'd walk by to check on things, it would derail people's attention for at least half an hour."

Omi laughed here, and Azuma laughed with him. That didn't sound like that terrible of a job, after all.

"You look good in suits," Omi added, seemingly subconsciously, as as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his cheeks went pink, and he looked at Azuma like Taichi when he got caught sneaking cookies. Azuma's heart gave a little jump. Omi was too adorable for his own good, sometimes.

Thankfully for Omi, it was at that moment that the oven timer went off, and he jumped out of his seat to go get hte muffins out of the oven.

Azuma watched as Omi took the muffins out of the oven and started putting the dishes into the sink to wash. Azuma knew a flight risk when he saw one. For some reason, the thought of ending their conversation here made him feel lonelier than he had in a while, and so he refilled both sake cups and brought them into the kitchen with him. Omi must have sensed he was cornered, because while he looked back to his normal, unflappable self, he also wasn't looking up from where he was running water over the muffin pans.

"You're good at steering the conversation away from yourself, aren't you?" Azuma teased, causing Omi to smile down at the sink. "But I won't be deterred. You were talking about choosing jobs. What would you be choosing between? Any paths you think you might like to pursue?"

"Hmm..." Omi seemed to think. "I have a lot of options. A lot of things I could do..." A pause, as Omi seemed to think better of what he was going to say next. "I'll figure something out, really. Besides, we keep talking about me, but you said you couldn't sleep, either. Is everything okay?"

Azuma didn't bother hiding his sigh. Omi seemed determined not to talk about his problems, but Azuma could be just as stubborn. Setting down the sake cups on the counter, he made use of his now empty hands to pull one of Omi's arms from the sink.

Omi jumped at the sudden contact, and Azuma had the fleeting thought that this was the first time they'd ever truly made physical contact. Fleeting, because after a second, all he could think about was how warm Omi's skin was beneath his hand, the pulse fluttering against his fingertips.

Omi's breath caught as Azuma pulled his hand under the stream of water for a few seconds. With his free hand, Azuma pulled a towel out from where it hung on the oven handle and took Omi's hand in his, gently working the towel along his palm and between his fingers.

Relishing the silence he had wrought, Azuma could feel Omi's shocked stare, but chose to keep looking down at their hands, instead. Once Omi's was completely dry, Azuma swapped out the towel for sake, and wrapped Omi's fingers around the cup for him. Only once Omi had a firm grip on the cup did Azuma let go, meeting his stare with an easy, practiced smile as he reached for his own sake.

"Bottoms up," he said, breaking the silence, and poor Omi must have been so bewildered and lost that he took the direction without question. Azuma smiled at the obedience before downing his own cup and placing it in the sink alongside the muffin pans.

Once Omi had followed suit, Azuma took his hand and linked their fingers together. The blush began to rise to Omi's cheeks again, but before he could protest, Azuma put a finger to his lips and pulled him along, out of the kitchen and down the hallway, only stopping once they were in the room he shared with Guy.

"Azuma," Omi whispered, apparently not realizing Guy was out for the evening, "What are you doing? I... I have to wash the di—"

"Shh," Azuma cut him off. Omi's attempts to dodge Azuma were adorable, but they were getting a little old. "You can't sleep, I can't sleep. But if we're together, maybe we can both get a little shut-eye."

"W-what?! You can't be... I don't think... What?!"

"You wouldn't be the first to share my bed, and with the way everyone in this company overworks themselves, I doubt you'll be the last. Now come on, get those jeans off," Azuma said as he started to strip, himself.

"A-Azuma?! Wait! I don't think this is a good idea!"

It took Azuma a few seconds and a good look at Omi standing stock-still in the middle of the room, a blush covering his face, before he realized what was going on. And when he did, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, Omi, you sweet boy. We're not going to be sleeping TOGETHER together." Omi let out a breath at that, looking a little less spooked, but he still didn't make any move to undress. "I'll stay on top of the sheets if you prefer. But you are having issues sleeping, and I am a professional cuddler, and I'm not going to let you lay in bed worrying all night when there's something I can do about it. Would it make you more comfortable if you had pajamas to change into?"

"Th-that's not the issue. Really, I'm fine. You don't have to—"

"Omi," Azuma cut him off gently. "Please. Let me do this for you."

When Omi looked like he was about to protest again, Azuma sighed.

"Do you want to know why I couldn't sleep tonight?" Azuma asked, feeling like perhaps a little honesty might get Omi to open up more. "I was lonely. Guy's gone for the evening, and I was going to go to sleep early, but I couldn't stop thinking of depressing things. I was so glad when I saw that you were up because it meant that I wouldn't have to be alone. Please. Stay."

The conflict in Omi's face had changed to what Azuma had hoped he wouldn't have to see: pity. But Azuma truly was lonely, and if he had to stoop to such levels to keep Omi here, well, at least they would both benefit from the outcome.

"All right," came the answer, in a tone Omi usually reserved for the kids of the troupe. "I'll stay."


	2. Chapter 2

It was only a matter of minutes for Omi to get some pajamas from his room, and soon the two were settled into Azuma's bed, snug under his silk sheets. It took some finagling to find a comfortable position, but eventually Azuma convinced Omi that yes, it was all right to cuddle, and yes, the man's chest was actually a very comfortable pillow. Thus arranged, Azuma hummed in contentment, arms around another person for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Azuma?" Omi murmured, the vibrations sending a pleasant tingle through Azuma's body.

"What can I do for you, Omi?"

"Thank you. For being honest with me earlier."

Omi's statement was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one, and Azuma found himself smiling and cuddling closer into the warm body beside him as Omi continued.

"I'm...not very good at being honest."

Feeling that Omi might finally be opening up to him a bit, Azuma stayed silent, but squeezed Omi's shoulder to show he was listening.

"I don't...want anyone else to have to deal with my problems. When the Autumn Troupe had to do our portraits, everyone was so open with what had happened to them. They all have their own problems, and the issues I'm having right now are so trivial in comparison. I don't want to trouble anyone."

"Then trouble me."

Omi gave a strained laugh, and Azuma felt tentative fingers begin to stroke through his hair. He gave a contented sigh in hopes that the action would continue, and wasn't disappointed.

"You're...not someone I want to trouble, either, Azuma." The whisper sounded almost like a confession, and Azuma wondered if it wasn't. Time to lighten the mood, otherwise this conversation could go in a very different direction, and one that Azuma wasn't quite sure either of them was ready for tonight.

"Listening to my clients' woes is a part of my job description. Come now, I love a good bedtime story."

Omi grimaced. "Client, huh?"

"Don't worry, tonight's free of charge," Azuma said with a smirk.

"That's not..." Omi seemed to give up on what he was about to say with a sigh, and finally, haltingly, began to speak.

"Well, it isn't much of a bedtime story. I'm just...conflicted. It's silly, but I see people like Tasuku and Izumi making their living off of theater, and I feel like that's what I should be doing, too. I came so far to make Nachi's dream come true, and now it's MY dream, and I know I don't have to be a full-time actor to be an actor, but it feels a little like giving up halfway. I also want to do something with photography, but at the same time, I want a job that's stable, which I wouldn't have either way. It's...hard. Sorry. That was a lot."

Now, Azuma didn't know who this Nachi was, but he certainly knew when to pry and when to keep silent, and this particular issue seemed to fall to the latter. So he let the silence stretch out for a few seconds just to make sure Omi was finished speaking before pushing himself onto his elbows to look the man in the eye. The hand in his hair pulled the strands over one shoulder so they pooled on Omi's chest, and Azuma decided to take a risk and comb a hand through Omi's hair, himself. It was apparently the right choice, as Omi sighed and closed his eyes, the little line of stress that had appeared between his brows melting away.

"People change jobs all the time, Omi," Azuma murmured. "You needn't decide the rest of your life right now. Do you think I knew I was going to be a professional cuddler when I was your age?"

"So what were you before you were a professional cuddler, then?"

Yet again not the answer Azuma was expecting, but two could play at that game. With a low chuckle, he teasingly tugged at Omi's hair, a tingle shooting down his spine at the hitch the action solicited in Omi's breath. "That's a secret."

"Now that's not fair," Omi teased, one side of his lips quirking up. "You're the one who brought it up."

"And you're the one trying to change the topic again."

Omi's lips stretched into a full-blown smile as he opened his eyes to look up at Azuma. "You caught me." The twinkle in his eye as he jested back caused a twinge somewhere deep in Azuma's chest, but he ignored it to give one last piece of advice.

"Well, it sounds like you've already thought about this thoroughly, and at the end of the day, the choice is your own, so I doubt anything I say will be of help, but remember one thing for me?" Azuma murmured.

Omi nodded in response, eyes falling closed again as Azuma slowly pet his hair.

"Even if you end up with an unstable job, Mankai will always be here for you."

The twinge in Azuma's chest came back with a vengeance as Omi's smile morphed into something softer.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for a complete tonal U-turn in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unnecessary angst, anyone?

Three days. It had been three days since Omi had so much as looked at him.

Normally Azuma wouldn't have been keeping track, but he had let himself believe that after the night they'd spent together, perhaps Omi might have felt just a bit closer to him. Banri and Juza had blushed on making eye contact with him for weeks after he'd made them sleep in the same bed, but at least it was something. This radio silence from Omi had him on edge.

Then again, perhaps he was overreacting. Perhaps a little experiment was in order.

Azuma began simply. Trying to catch Omi's eye across the breakfast table, smiling his way when they were in the same room together. Nothing. Not even a single glance his way.

Next he started casually trying to brush arms with Omi whenever they passed each other, which he made sure was often, but somehow Omi always seemed to pull away at just the right moment to avoid contact.

Then he got more blatant. Entering the kitchen when Omi was cooking alone? Omi always found an excuse to leave before Azuma could get a word in. Asking him a direct question when others were around? He received a polite answer, but still no eye contact.

Azuma had been so certain that night that they were on the precipice of something. Had he misread the signals? Had something he'd said been interpreted as rejection?

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

Azuma spent the next few nights coming out to the kitchen around midnight with a bottle of one of his stronger sakes in hopes of finding Omi once again baking away his insomnia, but it wasn't until the third night that he was actually successful.

There Omi was, folding dough into what looked to be croissants. Azuma allowed himself a moment to appreciate the precision with which Omi's large hands shaped the dough into perfect crescents before rapping lightly on the wall to announce his presence.

Omi looked up, but his eyes only made it to Azuma's hands before sliding immediately back down to the tray of croissants.

"Oh, Azuma," he said, acting in a way that would be completely normal if only he would just meet Azuma's eyes. "I was just about finished with these, and then you can have the kitchen."

Too relieved to find Omi actually in the kitchen to be anything but straight to the point, Azuma just answered, "Have a drink with me."

"I'm actually pretty tired, so I'll just pop these in the oven and then get ready for bed while they're baking—"

"That wasn't a request."

Finally. Eye contact. But so fleeting that it was impossible to read anything from it but surprise, likely at Azuma's serious tone. He'd let the frustration slip out, but it was too late to take it back now.

"Actually I have an interview tomorrow, so I really shouldn't be drinking..."

"Then just sit with me while I drink. Or would you really leave me to drink alone?"

"Maybe if you asked Sakyo—"

"You're avoiding me." Normally Azuma would have eased into the topic, maybe thrown in some casual banter before getting to the heart of the matter, but the amount of hurt he felt at the blatant rejection took him by surprise, and the words just slipped out.

Silence.

"You're avoiding me and I wish to know why."

Omi let out a sigh, moving to wash his hands in the sink, and Azuma remembered how it felt less than a week ago having one of those large hands in his, nothing separating them but a towel. Things as they were, tonight he kept his distance. It wasn't until Omi was drying clean hands on the kitchen towel that he answered Azuma.

"Just give me a few days and everything will be back to normal, I promise."

"Says the man who hasn't looked at me in a week." And Azuma knew he sounded pathetic, knew he sounded petty, but he also hadn't expected this wrenching feeling behind his ribcage, and the feeling was making it hard to monitor the words the way he would normally.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just...have a few things I need to work out."

"You told me all your troubles last week, what's so different now that you have to hide them from me?"

It had been a guess, really, that Omi was hiding something from him, specifically, but the way Omi looked down guiltily confirmed his suspicions that this was a conscious choice.

"Last week...was a mistake. I wasn't—"

"So I'm a mistake?" Azuma wasn't being fair, he knew he was twisting Omi's words, but he wanted a reaction. Wanted Omi to slip up. Wanted to make him angry enough that he spit out what the hell had been his problem for the past week, because lord knew Azuma wouldn't be able to cuddle it out of him this time. Not with the way this conversation was going.

"No!" Omi breathed, meeting Azuma's eyes. "You're never a mistake."

"Then tell me what's wrong, because I don't appreciate being left in the dark."

Omi seemed to consider it before looking away with another sigh. "You're not going to like it."

"Try me."

Azuma wasn't expecting Omi to take the bottle of genshu from his hands, and he certainly wasn't expecting him to unscrew the cap and down several swigs straight from the bottle. Even more surprising, however, were the next words that came from Omi's mouth.

"I can't stop thinking about you, dammit." His words were calm, soft, punctuated with a self-deprecating smile.

Surprising, but not unwelcome.

"You're always so kind to me, and I... I shouldn't be thinking of you this way. I'm sorry. I'll get this under control. I won't let it affect the way I treat you. I just need a little more time."

Omi looked so conflicted that Azuma almost felt guilty for the way that tight feeling behind his sternum had all but disappeared, replaced by a bubbling warmth. As it was, he couldn't stop the smile that made its way to his face as he moved forward, placing a finger to Omi's chin to tilt his head back up from where he'd been looking at the floor. In Omi's eyes was a mixture of concern, self-loathing, and confusion, and so Azuma made sure his own showed nothing but calm certainty as he leaned forward to press his lips against Omi's.

Omi's lips were warm.

That was all that Azuma had time to register before Omi's hands were on his shoulders, the man pulling back in surprise and taking the heat with him. The sharp sting of rejection flooded Azuma before he could stop it, and he tried to tamp it down to no avail. Omi's hands were still on him, their grip firm but gentle as they kept Azuma at an arm's length, keeping him from getting closer, but also keeping him from running away as he now longed to do.

"Well," Azuma began before Omi could say anything that could crush him further, "I believe we've both had enough to drink. If you'll excuse me..." But Omi wouldn't let him go.

"You haven't had anything to drink tonight," Omi murmured, and if Azuma had been paying any attention at all to his tone, he would have noticed a faint hum of hope in what was surely a guess, for how could Omi have known that?

But, guess or not, Omi spoke the truth, and so Azuma plastered on his biggest smile, the one that hid all the cracks, reached up to pull Omi's hands from his shoulders, and said, "Well, I've had enough misunderstandings for one night, if you please. Get a good night's sleep for your interview tomorrow." And he would have left, had not Omi's hands clamped onto his like vices as he turned away.

"Azuma. Look at me. Please."

Oh, how Azuma wanted to resist. How he wanted to waltz back to his room and pretend none of this had ever happened, or perhaps wake Guy so that he could have company in drowning his sorrows. As it was, he was powerless to resist the sweetness of Omi's voice, and he slowly turned back to face him.

The look in Omi's eyes as he met his gaze had him crumbling in a way that even his biggest smile couldn't hide. If this was a trick, if somehow that soft smile didn't mean what he thought it meant, then Azuma didn't know how he'd be able to piece himself together again.

"God, Azuma," Omi breathed, "Sometimes, you don't give yourself enough credit."

"You pulled away." Please, please don't let this be a dream.

A sharp spike of guilt through Omi's expression as he looked down at where he still held Azuma's hands. "I didn't think... I don't know what I thought. Maybe that you were just humoring me. Either way, it seemed too good to be true." Slowly, as if fearing Azuma might try to run again, he let their linked hands fall, and instead reached up with both hands to cup Azuma's cheeks. "I'm sorry," he said, and tentatively, as though Azuma might break into a thousand pieces at his touch, he leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

Azuma's breath stopped as Omi moved his way down his face, kissing his brow, the tip of his nose, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"Will you forgive me?" Omi whispered, close enough that Azuma could feel the words on his skin.

"Yes."

And finally their lips crashed together, and Omi's kisses tasted like sake and felt like worship, and Azuma was lost in his warmth with no desire to ever be found.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's got some mentions of sex in it, but they don't do anything and it's all very fluffy. Still, if you're not a fan, feel free to pretend this chapter doesn't exist.

With the amount of times other members of Mankai had slept in his bed, it was a novel experience to be in someone else's. Omi was very firm that they were "just sleeping", and it's been so long since a kiss hasn't led to sex that Azuma finds himself agreeing out of the sheer novelty. And perhaps a bit because he has a soft spot for a certain strong young man with a pure heart.

Azuma still isn't sure if it wouldn't be better to bribe Guy out of his room with some quality sake and take this to his own bed, but Omi assures him that Taichi almost always ends up falling asleep in Yuki's room when they're sewing, and even if he came back, he'd be so tired he wouldn't notice the extra body in Omi's bed.

And so it was that Azuma found himself lying face to face with Omi in his bunk, the man tracing the backs of his fingers against his cheek.

"Is this okay?" Omi asked softly, his words breaking the silence.

"Stop being so nice, you're going to spoil me," Azuma teased. "If it were up to me, I would have let you have your way with me in the kitchen. A little petting isn't going to offend my sensibilities."

Azuma wondered if he would ever tire of seeing Omi blush. He doubted it.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Omi clarified. "We didn't actually talk anything through, and if you were only after sex, you might not have been okay with something like this."

Azuma had two choices now. He could clarify exactly what he wanted from Omi and turn this into a serious conversation, or he could tease. He chose the latter. "And what exactly is this?" he smirked.

Omi just smiled, that heart-wrenching, beautiful smile that didn't count as a reaction, and so Azuma tried again.

"I didn't believe you when you said it the last time, but it turns out you really are terrible at being honest."

Omi just chuckled. "Well, you can't say I didn't warn you."

"True enough," Azuma conceded, tracing his fingers along the neckline of Omi's shirt. "But the last time all it took for some honesty was some alcohol in your system and a man in your bed. Shall we test to see if that was just a one-time thing?"

"I'd rather not embarrass myself any more tonight, if that's okay with you." Omi's reply was accompanied by a grimace, and oh if Azuma didn't just want to know all the secrets behind it.

"Then I suppose I'll just have to guess," he said with a coy smile. "Hmm... I suppose I'll have to look at the hints you've given me. You kiss me in the kitchen but say you don't want sex—"

Omi cut him off with a raised eyebrow. "I said we weren't going to have sex, I never said I didn't want it."

Azuma's smile turned smug. "Oh, my mistake. You say you don't want sex TONIGHT, but you're more than willing to welcome me into your bed." Azuma punctuated his statement with a tug on Omi's collar, gaining a soft chuckle in response. "You tell me I don't give myself enough credit, and the way you look at me, well..." He trailed off suggestively, flipping his hair over his shoulder partially to add a bit of comedy to the statement and partially because he could tell already that Omi had a fascination with the way his hair moved.

"And how do I look at you?" Omi asked, meeting Azuma's eyes.

Azuma pretended to think about it, keeping the words on the tip of his tongue until he'd had his fill of that very look.

"Like I'm something precious."

A low hum came from Omi's throat in response as he reached forward to brush a thumb against Azuma's cheek. "I guess I do," he murmured, gazing softly at Azuma for a few moments before pulling his hand back and resuming his teasing grin. "So what do all these things add up to in that mind of yours?"

The gentle smile on Azuma's face turned into an evil smirk. "That's a secret."

"All that build-up, but you were never going to tell me the answer, were you?" Omi chided, not looking the least bit put out.

Azuma's joyous laugh was perhaps a bit too loud for past midnight in a dorm full of people, but for once he couldn't care less. "I'd just rather hear it from your own lips," he teased, closing the distance between him and Omi with a short peck to those lips, and curling up into the strong arms that came to wrap around him.

"Maybe I'll be feeling more honest after a few more cuddle sessions," was Omi's response.

"I can work with that," Azuma conceded, wrapping an arm around Omi and beginning to trail kisses along his chin. "I can be very...persuasive, you see." Raking his nails down Omi's back, he left no room to doubt what methods he had in mind.

"Sleep, Azuma," was the chuckled response as Omi tucked Azuma's head under his chin.

"You said no sex tonight, that doesn't mean I can't think toward the future."

"SLEEP."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, that's a wrap.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> How did this happen I don't even ship them.  
> Also Omi's job troubles might not be canon compliant. I haven't read the graduation event story so I have no idea what he's planning after college.


End file.
